Intermediary
by BubbleBellarina
Summary: Sent into the DC Universe, Ace Mercenaries Laila and Diamonda decided to try and live as they did. The plan was painfully shattered as Dia was killed by the BO, and Laila, drowning in pain and grieve of the lost of her sister, plots her revenge— as the intermediary of the crow hunters. (On Hiatus due to the making of Sonder)
1. Prologue

In a pocket dimension located between multiple others, stood a large facility. Ran by a family named the Rionas, the Riona Research Facility is a place where the Riona Family— a family of immortal, top of the line assassins and mercenaries, who are long tired of their lives of adventure and resolved to training, creating, the next generations' best mercenaries.

At the top of the build, a man who looks to be in his late sixties sat in the middle of a large, lavishly decorated office, dressed like a business man with wavy graying hair tied back at the nape of his neck. His eyes are a silvery light gray which you can hardly distinguish from the whites, and it seems to gleam in the dark. By him stood a tall young man, hair in an undercut and tugged into a wool cap, a passive look on his face. The elderly man is Cadman Riona, who hummed as he scanned through the report handed to him by his eldest son, Donovan, the young man standing next to him.

"... So which subjects passed?" He set down the clipboard and looks up, crossing his fingers as he did. "in your last report, Subject NI 0176 was doing rather well, wasn't they? In the simulations their empathy levels and instincts far rivals the AI subjects, didn't they?"

"They did." Donovan replies, "However in terms of speed and memory management, the CI subjects far rivaled them. And their body didn't last long in the simulation, being much weaker compared to the CB subjects. However, the previously failed AI subjects had made a breakthrough. And with the combination of the vessel of a CB jubject and an implanted chip from the CI's brain, we have managed to balance out the subject's ability." He flips through the clipboard, "And out of all of them, Subject AI1201 by far had displayed the best performance."

Cadman purses his lips in thought, and looks up.

"Pull up a simulation."

Donovan nods, and taps on his wrist. A hologram pulls up, and the video footage of a young girl fighting barehanded against five armed men played.

The elderly man observes the girl's movements with narrowed eyes, careful as he traced her movements. Fluid, quick, with no wasted moves and every strike was controlled. All bullets were avoided just right with no wasted strength. The footage switches over to a timelasp her hunting down a group of people in the forest, hidden so well you wouldn't assume anything was wrong until every last one was captured.

"...Impressive." Cadman finally mumbled, "Are all the simulations done?"

"Yes."

"And her scores?"

"Near perfection, father." Donovan replies, "Should I mark her down as the final vessel for Project Luna?"

Cadman nods. "Do it."

Donovan returns the gesture, and turning on his heels, exits the room.

* * *

A soft bussing and the beeping of a heart monitor fills the room. A soft, light blue glow which was emanating from the glass coffin in the middle of the room luminary's the room, covering everything with a light blue tint.

The glass coffin had holograms hovering all over it, stats, numbers and graphs on full display. Inside it was a clear fluid that seems to bubble gently around the naked body of a young girl, barely into her teens. Pale with dark hair flowing from her head and multiple needles and tubes coming in and out of her body. Lowell, a silver-haired young man in his thirties was typing away at one of the many computers, which looked like something which came out of a sci-fi movie.

The door slides open.

A waman strolls in, with long, wavy blond hair and slanted light blue eyes. Dressed in a black leather suit with delicate makeup. Lowell barely turns around, but acknowledges her presence with a low huff.

"Hi again, Lapis Lazuli."

"Lowell." Lapis answers with a slight quirk of her lips, "So this is the famous Project L?"

"Well, correct." He sighs and straightens, "Subject AI1201. I suppose that's brings you here, Lapis?" He pauses, "Or do you prefer Sharon, now?"

Sharon Vineyard shakes her head with a soft huff. "No need. Unlike most of my siblings I do prefer my project name. I'm just playing the role of Sharon Vineyard, back here I'm still just one of Operation Hōseki's products... speaking of which." She glances to the glass door at the very back, "I heard I've got a new sister?"

"Well, yes." Lowell smirks, "Project Diamond, Subject RA2501. His body has the same design as L-AI1201's, but his skeleton is laced with a form of biologically generated diamond, morphable and agile. In the simulations, his speciality is speed, agility, and flexibility."

"Mine was anonymity, correct?" Lapis touches the glass surface of the coffin, "And her?"

"Project Luna is created with more... generalized abilities. Empathy, intelligence, wit, speed, agility, flexibility, manipulation, anonymity, skill, combat, strength, durability, every aspect was considered." Lowell swiped up a hologram, "She is by far, with the most potential."

"Oh?"

"We took samples from dimension 145B, from a metamorphmagis, and gave her the ability to control the appearance and quality of her iris, hair, skin, and face shape, to a certain extent, much like you but her variety isn't limited." He hums, "But she can also change her body frame and skeleton to a certain degree, growing taller or shorter at will. We have also inputed different knowledge into her consciousness, including multiple languages, manipulation and social theory, combat styles, weapons and biology, she won't need to learn." He pulled up a few other graphs and observed them for a moment, "Even if she did, she has photographic memory and adoptive muscle memory, it will take her less than a second to master anything."

"Now isn't that impressive?" Lapis raises an eyebrow at the description, to which Lowell nodded.

"Her DNA has been altered and changed. While her sences are highly enhanced her pain tolerance has also been upgraded. Evolved healing properties too. With the right circumstances she can survive a bullet through the heart. It will take ten times the strength needed to damage her bones and her skin and muscles has a much higher stress tolerance." Lowell began typing again and quirks his lips slightly, "She is also a lot faster and stronger than you are, we took samples from dimension 2481A-" At that, Lapis gave the man a disbelieving stare, "Yes, the one with all the messed-up superpowers and heroes. And based on that we gave her strength and stamina that rivals a human's by at least five times."

"And her max strength?" Lapis asks, peering into one of the holograms, "Average punch power, 89 horsepower. Kicks... 139 huh." She leans back, "Impressive. Can her body handle this power though?"

"Enough." Lowell answers. "Actually, Lapis, you're here just in time." He leans back and flips open a glass cover, "Her consciousness has just stabilized, I'm just about to wake her up."

"I see." The liquid slowly began to drain out of the glass coffin, leaving the body inside alone. The tubes detached, and the oxygen mask loosened itself before retroactive out of the glass.

"Lapis, you want to name her?" Lowell asks, "I may be her creator, but I'm not all that good at naming."

Lapis runs a finger down the glass, which was slowly being lowered, exposing the girl. "L-AI1201." She hums, "Laila would do."

On the table, heterochromatic eyes snaps open.

**Alright!!!! I'm Back!!! Intermediary had been on break for ages, and I'm really, really sorry! Since I wanted to have a solid timeline plotted out and fine tune the background I went off to write my BnHA drabble, Sonder (Which I highly recommend you to take a look), and plan out this story along the way! And now I'm back for good! I regret to say that there won't be anything like daily updates here like in Sonder since this isn't a Drabble and the chapters are going to be quite a bit longer, but I'll try be best to update once every week or two. Hope you enjoyed the new prologue!**

**~Bubbles**


	2. (Old) Prologue

Lights flashing, the heavy traffic echoed in the back allies of New York. The neon lights of advertisement boards and commercial screens reflected off the old, dirty brick walls. The sharp sounds of high heels hitting the concrete bounded off the walls, stopping as the owner of a pair of red heels stopped in front of a worn, rusted door. They paused for just a fraction of a moment, and a supple hand reached out, creaking it open to reveal a set of stairs.

Several steps down, a mahogany door sat at the end of a short corridor, half-opened with a bronze handle. The relaxing sound of jazz music and occasionally, laughter, cheers and clinks of glass swept out from behind the iron door. As it was gently pushed open, the sound echoed in the corridor, accompanied by gentle, yellow-tinted light seeping out. The pair of heels paused in its steps, before making its way down some stairs, and into a bar.

It wasn't deserted, but the bar was definitely not overflowing with business. A few guests littered around, in small groups and chattering in low, hushed voices. The bartender, dressed like a butler, twirled the drink mixer in the air with expertized skills before grabbing it and swiftly pouring the colourful liquor out into a martini glass, earning polite compliments and claps from his audience as he lit the drinks on fire.

Thou few, the customers were dressed in high ended suits and gowns, silk and lace, gauze and velvet. Women with heavy makeup highlighting their glamour and hiding their flaws accompanied by men with expertly styled hair and gleaming, expensive watches adorning their wrists littered around the room, conversing quietly, laughing, chuckling like ladies and gentlemen they seemed. In the corner, two men were competing against each other with darts, the occasional cheers had come from there.

On first glance, this seems like a high ended bar you'd expect to see in Paris, France, or perhaps some other expensive place, exclusively for the riches. However, if you take a closer look, you'd see guns concealed in the men's coat, packs of white powder and pills exchanged under the table, and cases of money handed over, followed by either nervous or smug smiles and smirks.

And at the door, taking every single detail in her eyes within moments, was a busty, bombshell blonde woman. The typical California girl with perfectly tanned skin and wavy, glossy honey blonde hair. Dressed in a skintight, scarlet bodycon which showed off her cleavage with a leather shoulder bag at her side, equally red as her dress and lips. A pair of striking, baby blue eyes under thick, glossy lashes gleamed with mirth and anticipation, with an underlying, yet fierce determination.

She smoothly made her way down the stairs, eyes wandering as if searching for someone. The action was taken note of, though as one side of her ruby lips cracked open slightly, into a barely noticeable, rapacious grin, it was unseen. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she began circling the floor, silent despite the red platforms adorning her feet.

A man seated to the side of the bar cast her a glance as she passed, however didn't take much to mind as her eyes searched through the seats, confusion brimming subtlely in her blue orbs. She circled to behind him, and silently, her hand brushed past. As she left, the gun, previously in his suit jacket, was gone. Replaced by another armed with blanks.

The woman's handbag seemed to grow a little heavier as she passed to more in a similar fashion, leaving two more men disarmed yet completely unaware of their vulnerability.

The bombshell blonde sighed and scanned the bar several more times, shaking her head with something akin to disappointment, then swiftly twirled on her feet and headed to the bar table, and slid onto one of the many leather stools. The bartender, who has finished serving the group of four seated a little to the left, approached the blonde with a pleasing smile. Yet upon closer inspection, you might just see the sharp edge hinted at the corners of his lips.

"Drinks, miss?" He proposed, tilting his head slightly.

"One Ono Champagne, please." She smiled back, sweetly as she slipped him a stack of notes from her sleeves as she reached towards him, the bill on top, however, had a set of rather interesting codes on them.

The barista took a single glance the peculiar symbols, for an ephemeral his eyes gleamed, and he bowed with a smile as if the exchange hadn't happened.

"Of course, Miss, " He replied as he would any other customer, and spun around. Left through the side door, as if to fetch whatever the woman wanted.

Moments passed. The woman soon received her desired drink, and the bartender was no longer anywhere in sight.

At the back, the door swung open once again, and a man in a pristine navy suit walked in, hands in his pockets and with stylish glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, his hair is waxed and neat. Behind him was another man in a crisp black suit, wearing shades and with slick black hair, carrying a case in his hand.

His eyes searched through the area, and finally, landed upon the female in the red dress. His lips quirked upwards, and he made way towards her just as she shifted. As if she had sensed his presence.

"Angel Rolthain." He spoke, a charming smile on his face, "is it?"

The woman spun around with a swift kick of her heels, eyes glimmering with amusement.

"Call me 'Gin'," She said with a coy smile, "And you, sir, are Francis Hilton, correct?"

"Correct." The man replied, sliding into the seat next to Angelia's.

Angel, or 'Gin', hummed and scanned the drinks rack. "Up for a drink?" She asked, tilting her head slightly to look at him.

"I am afraid I will have to decline," Hilton replied, and pulled out a cigarette, "You got a light?"

Angel passed him a match, and he accepted the tool and lit his cigar before taking a long drag of the tobacco.

Several minutes passed in silence, the few guests that were in the pub dwindled to the three men and several groups of two and three, huddled in the dark corners of the restaurant.

"I assume you have what I want?" Angel's voice cracked the absence of sound, almost casually. As if they were not in the den of the crows of the world.

"I do. Though..." His eyes narrowed by just a fraction as he glanced at her, "Your side of the deal?"

"Complete." She rolled her eyes. "Check your bank account, I did a transfer already."

Francis glanced towards the man by his side and made a small gesture by a tilt of his head. He nodded and checked his phone, then hesitantly nodded back.

"Very well." The French's smile is back. "As for your information," He tilted his head slightly, and leant forward slightly, "I'm not sure of the details, but he will appear in Osaka, Japan." He leaned back, "That's all I will tell."

Angel's face was passive; however the darkening of her expression told Hilton everything he wanted.

"If I remember right, our contract involves an exact location, correct?" Angel's voice didn't change, though her eyes seemed to darken, and her position shifted by barely a millimetre.

"I never did agree how exact this location would be." As if he was a panther who had his prey in his claws, his eyes settled on Angel in an almost lazy manner as he prepared to enjoy her outburst.

"You-" Her voice did not rise in terms of volume. However, the force of her tone was enough to get the message across. A single finger to her lips silenced the naive woman.

"I wouldn't do that, young lady." He leaned in and whispered in her ear. A feral grin split upon his lips, "I have men stationed, girl, don't think I'm that silly to come unprepared."

"It's not like I intend to let you live after gaining this particular piece of information."

The female stilled, and Francis returned to his seat, satisfied at the helpless, crestfallen look on the woman's face. He stood and turned to leave.

He barely took three steps, before he stopped dead in his tracks, frozen, immobilised, by an unseen force. There was a slight shift in the atmosphere, and Francis felt a chill creeping into him.

It wasn't violent, like the kind you get after a sudden and horrifying revelation, nor was it very noticeable. It was the kind of slight oddity that your subconscious picks up. As if a trick of the light. But it just crawls, seeping deep into the very core of your bones.

Francis takes pride in having a well-coordinated mind, it was, after all, why the organisation had recognised and recruited him. He had always been the kind to ignore all things illogical and make rational, perceptive decisions. He was one to ignore his emotions and fears screaming at him and execute seemingly impossibly hazardous missions with efficiency due to his apathy. But right this moment, he couldn't.

It wasn't like the kind of mind consuming, the irrational yet overwhelming terror you feel as you face your nightmares. It was an uneasiness, something the deepest, the most fundamental part of your being, of life itself whispering to you something is wrong, that you are not safe. It wasn't screaming at you or gripping your person, but that is precisely what is so terrifying about it. The whisper was not loud, but it filled your mind, leaving no room for any other thought, your head is too occupied with processing anything else but keeping you breathing, keeping your heart beating, keeping you alive.

The feeling lasted an instance and an eternity, Francis wandered a split second how a person could experience such a quantity of emotions all at once, then spun on his heel.

Angel's stare burned into his eyes, and this time, the terror hit.

It was not a killing intent, it wasn't even anger. Those eyes were perfectly calm, conceivably laced with mild exasperation, perhaps recreation. There was however, a distinctive, fine edge to her gaze, slashing through him that is everything Angel wasn't the past few minutes of their conversation.

"Kill her."

It was an unconscious whisper, a desperate order which Francis would've never made under any other circumstances. But right now, the irrational fear and uneasiness screamed at him to run, to get the hell away from Angel Rolthain.

He expected for his men, who he had stationed in the pub several hours ago to keep an eye out, to whip out their guns and fire, he expected to see Angel reduced to nothing but a mess of blood and guts before him, to reassure himself that this woman, this creature before him is human, can die, and will die, so that he will not die from the sheer terror, from the knowledge of her existence.

Nothing happened. Francis can see his men clicking desperately on the trigger, the sound of plastic echoed as the fear returned with full force, striking deep in his chest. Suffocating him.

"Looking for this?" Angel's voice was cold, as she turned her handbag upside down, three guns clattered to the ground, unfired bullets fell with clean, metallic clinking noises, and rolled free by her heels. "Too bad. You were just a little too... Ahh... Silly, to have predicted that I would have the insight to disarm your men."

Francis took a step backwards, as Angel stood almost casually. "Well." She hummed, "Not that it would've mattered... But I'd rather not leave bloodstains behind, I quite like this particular dress." She glanced up towards him and smiled.

Then everything was a blur. One moment she was there, and the next she wasn't, a single shot rang out and all Francis knew, was darkness. The lights were shot out. Panicked yells and grunts sounded from around him, almost all at once. Thuds of bodies hitting the floor, then he could see again.

Having adjusted to the sudden darkness, Francis' eyes scanned the area around him, the unlocatable fear still crawling on his skin, his men were down. All of them. 'Angel' however, was nowhere to be seen. He cursed under his breath, stumbling slightly due to the lack of light, eyes darting around for the slightest movements in the blackness. A swish of a long coat caught his eye, but as he turned to locate it, it was gone.

Francis reached for his pistol, blindly aiming towards the location and fired several shots, only to yell out in panic as his weapon was shot out of his hands by a well-trained bullet. He reached for his knife, only to find nothing as a hole was shot in his pocket, and his dagger was gone.

He bit back a cry as something came in contact with his ankle, his knees buckled and the limbs gave out, he craved in and hit the ground with a pained grunt, only to get the air knocked out of him as he was abruptly booted in the spine, which hurled him flat on his face.

'Clack.'

'Clack.'

'Clack.'

Footsteps echoed in the pub, Francis groaned and began lifting his face off the floor, only to be slammed back down as a boot stomped onto his back, pinning him to the ground.

Francis shifted his face to look up, glancing upwards painfully. And at the corner of his vision, Angel Rolthain stood over him, expression apathetic yet irises blazing with muted rage.

A shot echoed in the room, and Francis almost screamed.

Two bullets had pierced his knees, rendering them unserviceable.

How had she done that? He only heard one shot, but two bullets were fired. He queried through the haze of agonising pain, unless she had shot so fast that two shots were heard as one.

But that was supposed to e impossible! A move similar to such entails inhuman speed, and that- that-

The gears in his brain whirled, could it be possible? That **SHE** had been this woman, that **THIS PERSON** is truly going against them? Against Anokata?

But... Wait.

Angel 'Gin' Rolthain.

ANGELGINROLTHAIN

RIONA NIGHTINGALE

How could he be so stupid? An anagram, of course it was an anagram! **SHE** is famous for her plays on words, her riddles. He struggled as a gloved hand gripped his chin, forcing his head up. Fear encased his heart in its vice grasp, filling his mind with static as their eyes met.

'Angel' stood over him, smiling softly yet viciously, and everything about her was so off, so wrong that Francis couldn't help but whisper,

"Monster."

A chuckle. The monster leered down at him, eyes gleaming like those of a feline.

"I see you have finally realised," the abnormality before him said, "Who I am."

"The one who I took the name of, the silver-haired one," She paused, "Murdered the last bit of humanity I had left, my last lifeline."

"I swore to make him suffer. Suffer the same pain I did, to watch everything he had fall apart, and leave him broken as I crush him. Until there's nothing, nothing left of him that he doesn't even have enough of a soul to leave a ghost behind as he died."

He watched in horror as the blond in her hair fell away, leaving nothing but black. Raven locks pooled down from its confinements, the blue in her eyes gave way to a strange, heterochromatic colour.

Indigo framed by violet, and an amethyst halo over a pool of wine. Feline, oval irises, predatory and hungry, boring into his own.

Her red dress was gone, replaced by a midnight coat and a royal blue top, black leather pants covered by a pair of over the knee wedge boots, with metallic blue soles. And most importantly, the silver ring hanging from the chain around her neck, in the shape of an ouroboros.

"Now tell me, Campari... the location."

Francis trembled, shivering violently as he bit out his answer.

"I don't know."

The blast of a gun, and he knew no more.

Intermediary

Laila Riona-Nightingale stood over the collapsed form of Francis Hilton for a few seconds, eyes cold, before she spun on her heels, and left the room.

The man isn't dead. Not yet. The bullet she fired was a blank. Laila dove a hand into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette, holding it between her teeth before lighting it swiftly with a flick of her match.

She pulled her phone out, dialled a number then held it between her ear and shoulder, waiting patiently as it beeped in her ear.

"Ah, Shuu?"

"Yeah. I got him."

"No, he didn't have the location. Oh, right. Deal with the clean up for me?... Thanks, Akai."

The call ended.

Walking out the alley, the circular hem of her princess coat blowing behind her as her over-the-knee boots clacked against the cement ground, the lights of the city that never sleeps a halo against her silhouette.

Laila Tanzanite Riona-Nightingale, the Elder Riona Sister of the Rionas of the 21st Century. Codename: Raven, also known as Nightingale, the Huntress, and Lillith's Child.

Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the term 'Riona', but this world would undoubtedly recognise it. The Riona Family is a rumoured family of immortals. Feared yet respected because they are the smartest, sharpest, fastest, cunningest, bravest, and most skilled fighters.

As a tradition, four newborns were chosen every century, two boys and two girls, to undergo the Riona Trails, a set of training plans focusing on combat ability, knowledge, and flexibility that is about 14 years long, which pushes the human body to the very limit, giving the person the ability to use the human body to it's most whenever they wished. Those who completed their training, we're called the Riona Graduates, or the Rionas. As not every century were there four Riona Graduates, it went unsaid that not everyone survives this hellish training regiment.

In truth, the Riona Family is an inter-dimensional family, a family known to the many worlds of the multiverse. After 14 years of their training, the Riona Graduates were allowed to choose a second name, their title, based if the image they wish to obtain and their skillset, then they will obtain a device which allows them to travel between the dimentions, so in short, they are dimentional travellers.

However, it is rather popular for them to choose a particular world to settle down in and make a name for themselves. Some went to worlds that are fictional in others; some went to normal, non-fictional ones. Laila was one of those. She and Diamonda (despite Dia being an otaku) had chosen to go to a relatively normal world like yours and mine, while her brother, Nathaniel, had gone to spy on a certain sarcastic Peter Johnson( you get that?). Her other brother... Well, he died during the exam where they threw them into the middle of the Pacific with three gunshot wounds. Wimp.

Laila huffed to herself, blowing out a puff of the nicotine-free smoke (she is not so stupid to kill herself. Her e-cigar contains only mint and caffeine extracts.) As she fixed the crew neckline of her royal-blue top, tucking a few hair into place as she continued her way out the seemingly long alleyway.

She turned out of the dark path, casual like any other late-night wanderers of the city, and pressed a button in her pocket. The lights of a motorcycle parked to the side flashed blue, and Laila continued her way towards her ride.

Swinging onto the seat of her motorcycle, Laila started the engine with several taps on the touchscreens, really, Nat is brilliant. The merits of having a sister working with the Avengers... Laila thought as the helmet melted into existence. With a loud roar of the engine, the Nightingale took off down the maze of crossroads called Manhattan.

Several minutes later, Laila is walking through the large glass doors of a luxury apartment complex, helmet now but a tiny earpiece and her uniform and raven locks hidden under the illusion projected from the high-tech black bracelet she got from her sister. The receptionist stared as she walked towards the elevator in the crimson bodycon. Feeling playful, Laila sent the man a devillish smirk and a wink, leaving him a blushing and stuttering mess.

She walked into the elevator and swiped her keycard, tapping her foot as she waited for the lift to arrive to the top floor, before finally exiting the elevator and stepped into her apartment.

The Apartment takes up the entire floor, and comes with a hanging garden on the roof, which she had several people hired to manage. She pressed on her bracelet, retracting the disguise of 'Angel' her once again before taking off the princess coat and tossing it onto the sofa then heading into the kitchen, coming back into the living room with a bottle of bourbon and a cup with ice before she fell backwards onto the couch.

Starting up towards the ceiling, poured herself a glass of the alcohol, took a deep swig of the burning liquid, and closed her eyes.

"Dia..."

Under the cover of darkness, illuminated by only the citylights, 20 years old Laila Riona-Nightingale let her mask crumble, and fall.

Inermediary

It happened four years ago. Back when they were out of this entire mess, back when she was still alive.

Winter. In the centre of a bustling city, towing skyscrapers reaching out for the skies, modern, streamlined glass gleaming in the sunlight like mirrors. Two young teens were walking casually down the street, shopping bags in their arms and chatting, as if gossiping like any other teens their age would.

"I told you, Dia, he actually failed. Like, grand fail." One spoke, smirking slightly. "It was kind of hilarious, that kind of amateur mistake happening to him."

"Seriously? Nathan did that? I thought only anime characters fall out of trees in the middle of spying on someone!" Dia laughed, "Honestly, Lai, how long did you tease him for that?"

"I'm still bugging him for that." The other girl, Lai, grinned devilishly, heterochromatic eyes gleaming like those of a snake's.

The two girls are about 16 years of age, tall and slim with athletic figures. Both were dressed in matching outfits. Which includes a long princess coat with a circular, asymmetrical hem, an elastic, high neck sleeveless top, slim, flare suit pants and a pair of wedge boots. However, their colour scheme was the complete opposite of the other.

The one who spoke first, Dia, is dressed in white. Her coat was white, her top was white and so were her pants and boots. The inner layer of her jacket, however, is made of a light coloured material that seems to change and reflect different colours in the sun, like that of a bubble. Her hair is also a pale white colour, with white lashes framing her large, light coloured eyes that seemed to change colours like the fabric of the inside of her coat, she is clearly an albino.

This girl is Diamonda Viktori Riona-Libra. The youngest of the three Rionas of the 21st Century. Known for her graceful, ballerina-like fighting style and ability to disguise as anyone on earth with near perfection (even those with a completely different body type). Also called The Diamond, The Swan, Themis' Champion, but is most known as The Mirage Ballerina.

And naturally, walking by her side would be her sister. Laila Tanzanite Riona-Nightingale, also known as The Raven, The Nightingale, or Lillith's Child, Though her most popular and well-known name would be The Fatal Waltz, as her fighting movements resemble that of a waltz.

Unlike her sister, Laila is dressed in black and dark blue. With long, straight raven locks grazing the back of her knees tucked behind her ears, moonlight pale skin just a shade darker than her sister's, and deep-set, almond eyes framed by long, thick lashes like curtains.

The two fresh Riona Graduates were barely a year out of the mansion and is already notorious among criminals and intelligence agencies of the world.

"What cover name is he going by now, some random minor gods' kid?" Dia questioned her sister, who merely shrugged.

"Don't know." Laila replied, "Hey, take a shortcut home, perhaps?"

Dia's eyes sparkled knowingly.

"Of course, it would be more convenient."

The two continued down the street, and turned into an alley.

A pair of red heels paused in their step, then continued and took a turn into the shadowed street, continuing to follow the two.

The red stilettos was silent against the pavement, slowly beginning to approach the two figures from behind. It's pace speeding up, beginning to catch up to it's target.

Just as she reached them, the albino girl's form seemed to flicker, and disappeared.

Drawing her hand back with shock, the two's stalker whirled around, only to be greeted with a flying kick, white leather boots slammed into her neck, followed by a quick tuck on her arm she lost balance, slamming into the cement below.

The white mirage twirled midair, and landed with a graceful spin and a flex of her wrist. Diamonda scoffed as she glared down at their tailer.

"That's it?" She questioned, more to herself than anyone,"I'm not called the Mirage Ballerina for nothing, you know."

"By the way, that was an impressive afterimage." Laila commented as she walked up beside her sister, "Even I didn't know you were gone then."

"What do you think I was doing in the basement, Anime Marathons?" She snorted, "Nah. I watch those while under my covers."

"Cause an Otaku is totally not suspicious." Laila sighed. "I'd hate to agree with you, but a fangirl does look harmless, when alone, and against government officials." She said as she knelt down to inspect the woman in the red heels, she is dressed like any other white-collar workers, and had no identification cards on her.

"Yep! Fangirls can be deadly to security and celebrities. No one would expect a fangirl to sneak in a government building for assassination. Plus, all that obsession throws off investigators." Dia chuckled. "Plus, I get to enjoy my actual hobby."

"Welp." Laila stood, "She's clear alright. No cards, no badges. Not the VIA stalking us again. Plus, she's unarmed, and clearly not trained for any sort of combat."

"So, a random stalker, maybe following us for directions. Never mind her then." Dia shrugged and the two straightened themselves, and turned to exit the alley.

A slow, sarcastic applause. The sisters stilled.

"Bravo! Bravo, " a resounding, melodic voice spoke, echoing between the walls. "As expected of the latest Riona Sisters Duo. Lethal and quick." A pause, "Too bad not fast enough."

Diamonda's form blurred, the after image vanished like an illusion and the girl is suddenly on the fire escape above them, swinging down a kick on the speaker. A split second later a black blur grip hold of the person's wrist, spinning and with a vicious grip, slammed them into the wall.

Laila's grip tightened and slammed her against the wall to break the person's wrist, however, as her grip tightened and her hand punched out, her nails only dug into her palm— the person— the woman, was gone.

"Hum... Not bad." The voice this time, had come from above them. "But I can't have you breaking my wrist now, can I?"

Like the mirage she is, Diamonda's form blurred and she is already behind their attacker, but as her kick reached, it merely kicked through the form, as if an illusion.

Only a slight widening of eyes indicated the surprise she felt.

"You're not the only one with after images."

The voice was smug, oozing with amusement, as the woman reappeared behind her, whirling around and roundhouse kicked Diamonda towards the ground, Diamonda's feet touched the ground and bend slightly, using the momentum to kick off into the air and spinning several times before landing with a wide swing of her legs backwards to steady her balance. Her movements held no difference to that of a ballerina— swift and graceful.

Laila had immediately moved to cover her sister's momentary opening, the very second Diamonda was hit she had shifted and hidden herself in the shades, and barely a blink of an eye later she is behind their attacker, striking her right at her waist with a swinging kick. The woman in red had dodged by a hair's distance, but by then Diamonda had already recovered and is swinging the blade of her hand at her neck.

It was caught tight between two fingers just before it hits, and the fight pauses.

"At ease." The woman said, "I came for a... Ah, conversation." waving the small silver badge in her hand, she smiled, "would you mind?"

Diamonda relaxed slightly, pulling back her hand, Laila lowered the punch that was aiming for the female's throat. The sisters shared a look, and with several jumps, they landed lightly on the concrete.

The woman followed closely behind, landing almost as soundlessly as they did, her red heels cracking as she stayed her hips slightly, smirking as the sisters regarded her with calculating eyes.

"I see you are one of our sibling's companions. Seeing that you have gained the pin." It was Laila who spoke first.

The woman hummed, twirling her fingers. "Not really, but I am a family member."

"Elaborate."

"Well, for that, " She snapped her fingers. "Welcome to my humble abode."

The alley around them melted away like a ripple over a reflection on water, the concrete softened with a wave of illusion, and turned into carpet, the brick walls around them jumped back and their surroundings gave away and turned into a library.

Towering bookshelves loomed over them; cobwebs lined the corners and a sense of vellichor drifting in the air; and the woman was gone.

The air is floating with the soft smell of old parchments and leather, a particular wooden fragrance reached her nose.

"Mahogany." Diamonda says, softly, gently caressing the aged wooden surface wooden of the shelves.

"Correct."

And there was the woman again. Leaning against the high wooden bookshelves with a book in her hands, gloved fingers caressing the thin pages and gently flipping them over, as if examining a piece of priceless artwork, golden eyes almost glowing in the dark.

"You have a good sense of smell, to have recognised the scent. Yet, " she tilted her head, "I would say it is to be expected from you."

"May I ask, " in a civilised manner, Laila spoke first. "who are you?"

"Interesting." The woman tilted her head, "people would usually tell and demand answers from me; you must be one of the first to speak to me in such a reserved manner."

"I see no benefit in throwing a tantrum, especially in unfamiliar territory." Laila replied, coolly.

"Huh, " she huffs, a single breathy snort of laughter. "As expected, from one of Avril Riona's own students."

Laila's heart goes cold, the face of the Elder of the Riona family, their founder, flashes through her mind. The cool, stern woman, and her silver-streaked bronze hair. Her hawk-like piercing eyes.

"How..." Diamonda breaths, "Grandmother's name is not to be spoken beyond the boundaries of our mansion. How did you come across this information?" Her voice turns cold, colder than ice, colder than anything.

Usually, Diamonda's anger burns hot, but when she is cold, she is furious.

And Laila?

Well, Laila doesn't burn, she doesn't freeze. She manipulates you until you do what she wants and gets her revenge, she plays you like a chess piece and crushes you like a bug.

However, the woman merely snorts. She shakes her head, and drawls.

"Well, I would be a little bit of an asshole if I don't even know my niece's name, wouldn't I?"

Silence fell. Laila and Dia exchanged a quick, sharp look.

"Niece?" Diamonda asked, skeptical.

"Yes. Niece, " she sighs, "Avivia's daughter."

Laila narrowed her eyes, as the woman pushed off the shelf, and turned towards them. Her shoes clicked against the floor as she stalked towards them, and stepped into view.

She has pale, Asian skin. She looked of Japanese origins, yet she was petit and slim, and has the kind of nerd in the library feel to her. With dirty blonde hair in soft, big curls trembling past her shoulders in a twist braid and a soft, cream-coloured yarn hat. Golden eyes glared at them behind thin glasses, sitting on the bridge of her nose.

"I am Mary." She says. "I am what you call... Ah, an Observer."

"Observer?"

"You two are what we call Travellers. Travelling between universes and messing with whatever you want. We are the Observers. We observe the multiverse, we change the multiverse, often to our liking, for the sake if a good story. And you two, are my change to this world I'm going to put you in."

"Well then you must be pretty busy. Life is pretty short." Laila snarks.

Mary hums nonchalantly. "Ah, another upside to immortality."

The siblings stop.

"What, where did you think your trainer's immortality came from? Avivia's my sister. We are aeons old, children of the very mother of the multiverse. We are one of the oldest beings out there, " she shrugs, "Welp. It's kinda boring, though."

"And what do you mean, by 'we're your change'?" Diamonds almost hisses. They don't like this. They don't like any of this.

"Oh, children." She sighs, "Think of this as my personal reality show, and now it's getting boring." She grins sharply, and it stretched over her teeth jaggedly and so wrongly that it made the hair on the back of their necks stand up. "And I am putting you in to make it more interesting."

"Those are lives we're talking about. Human lives." Diamonda says, a hint of anger and disapproval laced in her voice, but there are little she can do against an immortal being, and she knows better than to let her temper lose.

"Oh, darling, isn't it the same with you humans and zoos? Those are lives you're trapping in those cages, aren't they?" She looks at them with a strange look in her eyes, like they were nothing but tiny, little, insignificant fleas she can play with, "humans think they have so much control... Face it. To me, you're but two insignificant, unimportant bugs crawling across my best, which I hadn't bothered to kill and instead, wish to play with."

"Goodbye, children, and have fun."

And the world spilt out of focus. Their vision blurred and shifted and the next thing they know, they are in a black alley in a town. A very different town.

"What now?" Diamonda asked, a little dazed as they nearly tripped over their own feet, "well? Laila?"

"Let's check our locations first."

The two walked out of the narrow road and out into the glaring sun. It's summer- dang it. Laila hurriedly slipped back into the shadows and typed several instructions into her bracelet, Diamonda followed suit, and they are instantly dressed in sundresses and sandals— well, Laila's in gladiator heels and a one-shoulder fit-n-flare, but that doesn't matter.

Dressed in more appropriate clothings, the two walked out into the street, and found themselves facing a beach.

'Okaaaaay?'

Laila glanced at Diamonda, who shrugged.

The two continued for a little way down the path along the beach, before stopping dead in their tracks.

"You're a clown! Mister!"

They turned their heads towards a particular umbrella, and with disbelief, saw:

A little Kudo Shinichi in swimming trunks, a hand on his waist and another hand out to point at a blinking Akai Shuuichi, and a tiny Sera Masumi staring at him with owlish eyes.

Laila took a deep breath, and began swearing fluently.

Intermediary

Thinking back, they were foolish. After their adventures and mishaps in the mansion all she and Diamonda wanted was a relatively normal life, so instead of pursuing a life of excitement and thrill in those fictional dimensions like their siblings had done, they settled down into a rather ordinary world, occasionally travelling to a sibling's place for gadgets or tools, but that was it. They were the kind of hired gun, some kind of hired hitman that might be working for the CIA one day and the Mafia the next. As long as the job is interesting and it pays well, they don't mind, and within the short two-years-time, they had made a name for themselves.

So unwilling to break their original lifestyles, the two merely travelled to Las Vagas, went back to their original homes and did an interdimensional transfusion, and settled down into the Luxor Hotel. They continued their live as they would, and hoped for the best.

What an idiot.

They were sent here by an interdimensional being. One of the oldest beings of the multiverse who is immortal, who wanted a story out of them. And they expect to be able to lead a normal life? What fools.

Laila tilted her head sideways, starting out the windows and into the splendour of the big apple, not long now. She sighs, six more years and the timeline begins. She gently swirled her bourbon in it's cup, starting at it with lazy, tired eyes.

She is tired. She is exhausted.

She thinks back, back towards that night, three years ago.

Intermediary

'This mission is a simple assassination.' Laila thought back to the words of her contactor, which was annoyingly familiar. James Black had been one of the few characters that even she knew about. Since she had watched several movies with Diamonda before, she knew about him. 'He will be there with several of his closest men, eliminate them if you can.'

He's just tempting me then! Laila's eye twitched. Doubting my abilities, aren't you? I'll show you then.

She swiped her bracelet, letting her disguise melt over her as if a ripple of illusions. Her skin turned dark and the contacts in her eyes melted to amber-gold, she laced her fingers through her hair, fixing it before letting the planted, colour-changing hair face up and turn into a mixture of brown and blonde, covering her original raven locks. Skilful fingers pulled the brown locks apart and laced into a neat Dutch braid, and her full disguise is done.

Ducking into a side corridor she pulls on a cap that the workers of the building would wear; no one spared her a glance as she headed up and into the workers only area, and slipped out onto the fire escape.

It's twilight, the sky is quickly darkening and she has time.

Making her way up the building, as if just another one of the engineering workers here to check the building maintenance, Laila eyed the building just across, an abandoned office building, kept in relatively good shape where her target will be meeting with one of his clients.

Welp. Sniping usually isn't her thing, but she can snipe pretty well. She thought absent-mindedly, since sniping is included in the Riona Trails she has to be an expert. She wouldn't say she is as good as Akai Shuuichi, but she isn't that far from him. Better then the one from the 18th movie, she's sure. But that might be due to the mechanism of the rifles she uses. (They use the best brands of the multiverse, you think?!)

Swiping across her bracelet, a dark, reflective material covered her with liquid grace, and she appeared to have melted into the shadows as the sky darkened. Laila continued up the building and with silent, acrobatic movements she landed on the roof with a graceful, smooth backflip. Hidden by the shadows of the penthouse at the building top, Laila reached into a hidden compartment in her coat and pulled out a specially designed handgun, then flipping up several devices, she crouched down, took a deep breath, and took aim.

Across the building, through a window, with her enhanced sight and vision due to the multiple experiments and DNA alterations done to her as a child, Laila can see the door swing open clearly, her target walking in with several of his accomplice, and the client. A woman stood just a little behind her target, the right-hand man stood a little to the side with the client and the intel.

She smirked.

"Caught cha."

As her finger closed in on the trigger, the silencer did its job and without even a single whisper of a sound, the bullet pierced through the air with an almost silent whizz and zipped through the window with a nearly soundless clink of the glass, penetrating her target's heart through his back and taking out the woman in front of him with a perfectly lined-up headshot.

"Bingo."

The second bullet hit his right-hand man through the temple, and a third shot out the hanging ornaments and let the decorations fall, hitting the intel on the head and knocking her out. Her last bullet took out the client, guaranteeing her secrecy.

Standing up, Laila lazily swiped up a stone on the ground, and with a well-aimed throw, the upper left side of the window shattered, hiding all the bullet holes she had created, securing her tracks.

She broke down her gun to pieces, and slipped the pieces back into her coat compartments. And hidden in the shadows, Laila moved back into the building through the window. Then with another quick swipe of her bracelet, a handsome blond time man in a hoodie exited the building merely minutes later, seemingly another passer-by of the day.

She didn't know.

She really hadn't known. The movements, the steps, it should've screamed out at her, all those familiar movements and little habits she was trained to pick up on, she hadn't. This isn't a novel. Partners don't have telepathic links, sisters can't recognise each other with but a sideways, fleeting glance. It's all about skill, about awareness and being alert. And she hadn't been. She missed it all.

She wish she could say that she screamed, cherish she could say she'd panicked and cried her throat out and clawed at her own face at the sheer horror.

But hours later, in her room in the Luxor hotel of Las Vegas, she picked up the phone call, she did none of those.

When the phone call came, she was calm. She was silent. And she ended it as silently as it'd started.

The phone was left on the bedside table where it'd belonged, and she hadn't done a single thing.

It was too late. Too late and she knew it. She knew it as she walked into the kitchen, as she picked up the glass and the bottle, and poured herself a cupful of alcohol. As she'd leaned against the wall and looked out the large French windows in her bathrobes just like she had done so many other nights, like it was just another night.

As she slipped her beverage, she'd laughed. Laughed and covered her own eyes and silently cried.

Few tears were shed, and she spent the night restless. Leaning against the wall overlooking the extravagant city with calm, collected eyes, drinking the bottle empty like a machine. Laughter escaping her dry throat occasionally, breaking her voice like fragile glass as she laughed at the sheer irony of the tragedy.

Since she had just been played like a toy, manipulated when she was the manipulator, and assassinated her very own sister.

They were stupid, stupid to think that they would be left to live their normal, ablit unordinary lives, when a diety had been the one to send them here, all for the sake of a good story.

Oh, but Mary hadn't been the one to plan it. She hadn't meant for Dia to die. She'd only intended for something to happen, to push her towards that story she wanted and she hadn't expected Diamonda to die.

So she blamed it on the one who'd planned it, the one who'd made it happen. And Mary would get her story, while she'd get her revenge.

Gin wouldn't know what hit him.

**Ahhh! This spent me so long to rewrite! I wanted to change up the writing style a little and see how that'd work, I think it's alright! What'd you think? I'll keep most of the other chapters similar so they'll take shorter time to rewrite, and I don't know if you've noticed this but Diamonda's eye colour kept changing in the previous chapters so now that's a problem. And Yamiko's name is too peculiar so I changed it up to Junno Aika or something along the lines. See ya during my next update! Please look forwards to it!**


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